In no particular order...
How come, right after my younger cat takes a dump in the litterbox, he runs around the house like a mad man? Sort of like his ass is on fire. Wait. I think I just answered my own question.
No matter what kind of pissy mood I'm in, if i see a dog sticking its head out of a car window, I smile.
I used to have a RAGING crush on my cat's vet, and I'd make up excuses to stop by the vet's office in the (highly unlikely) event that I'd see him. Now I make up excuses to stop by there so I can love on the stray kittens they have up for adoption.
I have limited the number to 5 of how many times in a row The Geej can ask the same question. Her capacity for repetition is mind-boggling.
Speaking of The Geej, she went trick-or-treating last night for the first time, and took to it like a fish to water. She went with La Turista's Peach and Olive, so I think seeing the older girls do it was helpful. But soon, she was going at it on her own. I had to keep her from just walking into people's houses when they answered the door. She was dressed as a princess--simple, predictable, and totally adorable. If La Turista would send me a photo (hint, hint), I'd try and post.
Before I die, I want to drive a car in a demolition derby. I am dead serious. Demolition derbys (derbies?) are the BOMB, and I used to go see them all the time in the late summer/early fall when I lived in Chicago, and they were generally associated with some nearby county's fair, so I also got to see livestock judging, eat funnel cakes, ride the ferris wheel, and check out the local "art" that was being judged in the county fair contest. I have no idea why demo derbies (derbys?) aren't as popular in Texas as they are in the Midwest. Seems sort of counter-intuitive, no? Anyway, one of these days I'm gonna drive one of those damn cars, and I'm going to smash it to bits. TO BITS!!
So get this: I'm STILL having horrible flashbacks of being in the hospital. I'll be doing something totally mundane--like going down the elevator at work--and BOOM, I'm back in my hospital room at 3am in horrible pain with no one answering my call button. All of the sudden, I've broken out in a cold sweat, my heart is racing, and everything starts to go grey. I launch into a panic attack at the sheer memory of it. And the nightmares are horrible and happen almost every night. I think I'm having PTSD. Or something. Whatever it is, I want it to fucking stop.
Let's think happy thoughts, shall we?
Here's one: MR. WONDERFUL IS COMING TO VISIT ON FRIDAY!!
That's a happy thought indeed. Last time I saw him, I was in a dilaudid-induced stupor and was having one of my worst weekends in the hospital. His visit is a total blur. I have no recollection of it other than the fact that I know he was there because I remember seeing him and holding his hand. And I also let him touch my insanely hairy ankles as he rubbed my feet. (I was weak!!)But other than that? Zilcho. So I look forward to seeing him now that I have what's left of my wits about me and I'm not hooked up to any machinery or tubing.
La Turista posted some photos from our roadtrip to Graceland many moons ago. I'm not sure why or how those masks ended up coming with us, but we decided that we'd get our pictures taken with them pretty much everywhere. They ended up playing an inexplicably significant part in our trip. I'll never forget riding on the little shuttle bus from the Graceland visitors' center across the street to the house with those damn masks on. There is simply no telling what the Japanese and Australian tourists thought of us. And then there was us getting hammered in the lobby of the Peabody waiting on those damn ducks to waddle by. And my drunk ass having an allergic reaction to raw tuna and whelting up like a sideshow freak. And then us hooking up with the doorman at some lame-o bar who squired our drunk asses around and showed us the REAL Memphis. And then there's the very vivid memory of La Turista busting her ass as she descended out of our horse drawn carriage. And us getting pulled over by that hard-assed Arkansas highway patrol dude on the way to Dallas. And getting Taco Bell and much beer and rocking out to Pearl Jam when we got back to Erwina's apartment that night. Damn that was a good trip. If you can go to Graceland and see it gussied up for Christmas, do it. It's a truly American experience. But be sure and check to see if they're open before you go. I'm just saying... I just love Memphis, period. When I was living in Birmingham, it was close enough where you could do a long weekend there. One spring, I went to the "Memphis in May" music festival, and it was awesome because it reminded me of how SXSW used to be in the mid-90s. Ah...the carefree days of yore when you could just take off and pull a weekender.
Sigh.
Okay, was that random enough for you?
Tomorrow is ninja house-cleaning night in preparation for Mr. Wonderful's arrival. And also, just because it needs to be done. So I'm sure my post will be something riveting about the wonders of Soft Scrub or something. Until then...
3 comments:
I do have a photo of us on the bus, but I didn't want to overdo. And, BTW, I'm the only jackass wearing the mask in said picture.
I also have a pic of right BEFORE I busted my ass getting out of the carriage - I only wish I had one of the folks on Beale Street who witnessed the carnage. And you forgot all the great pics we took in the Memphis "jail" - including one of you on the pot.
Halloween pics have been sent...
We used to go the the destruction derbies in Houston when I was growing up. Or, as we called them, the Smash Up Derby. They were in the Astrodome and always featured someone being blown up in a box as entertainment. We loved it and I will always remember that particular smell of cars exploding, oil burning, steam, burnt tires and gunpowder from the exploding dude. Oh mix that with spillt beer and nachos.... I had a CLASSY upbringing, yo.
Oh and Soft Scrub? RULES.
I think "tubed up and hairy" should be the name of my blog. Thanks for the idea, amamgets!
Post a Comment